


often, often ( boy, i do this often )

by dormant_bender



Category: Bandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bottom Park Jimin, Daddy Kink, Dorks in Love, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Min Yoongi | Suga Is Whipped, Minor Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin, One-Sided Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin, Piano Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Top Min Yoongi | Suga, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:05:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormant_bender/pseuds/dormant_bender
Summary: Min Yoongi isn't obsessed, at least not really. He just wants Jimin to be cherished and appreciated properly, like he should be.Is that really too much to ask . . ?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i gotta stop going on youtube and watching bts vids ; i almost always end up finding shipping ones that inspire me to write. this time, i was inspired by [**THIIISSS**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNzUSucip-0) lovely video. feel free to give it a like and a comment. <3 
> 
> title from the song "often" by the weeknd; i would definitely recommend listening to it while reading.
> 
> enjoy xx

  
  
  


  
  


If angels existed, one would perhaps have the full and plump lips of the raven, perhaps even the dark eyes that crinkle at the corners when his lips twitch even the slightest bit upwards, too. Theoretically speaking, if angels genuinely existed, then he had been blessed to have witnessed one in the flesh for almost every other day for the past two years and a half.

  


Fingers comb through short-trimmed locks, brushing down his bangs and swiping them out of the way of his vision. Across the table rests none other than Park Jimin, who is all smiles per usual, grinning and chuckling wholeheartedly about a joke someone had told; he had missed it, far too focused on nibbling at the end of his lollipop, eyes narrowed when dark eyes pay him a fleeting glance.

  


Next to Jimin rests a wistful-looking Jungkook, whose eyes practically glitter when the dark-haired angel rests eyes upon him, almost enough to make the spectator's veins boil. Not that he had claimed the angel for himself, no, but he had thought about it on occasion, or more than on occasion; definitely more times than he could count on both hands, but he wouldn't dare speak the actual total.

  


Yoongi sucks aimlessly on the cherry-flavored candy, withdrawing it from his mouth with a lascivious " _pop_!" that captures the coy angel's attention; dark eyes flare at him, watching attentively as the elder flickers his tongue along his bottom lip, cleaning the reddened skin from the sticky mess that clings there.

  


"Are you still coming over tonight?" Suddenly an overly-animated voice pipes up, effectively stealing the angel's attention. He pauses, glances between the two, clearing his throat and shifting his gaze downcast to the open notebook resting on the table-top: "I mean, s'not like you have to or anything, I just thought we could do that thing— _project_ , yeah—together, maybe."

  


Even though Yoongi wasn't attracted to the youth in the slightest, he still found the spluttering endearing, and apparently Jimin does, too, as he does that damned eye smile. Lids narrow at that, fingers twirling the stick of candy within his clutches thoughtfully, placing the spherical bit back between his lips. He jerks his head in no particular direction, tongue flicking against the lollipop pressed into the corner of his cheek.

  


"I gotta teach a shitty freshman class the basics at piano." He waves nonchalantly, making to saunter off, pausing only for a brief moment to cast a haughty glimpse over his shoulder: "See you when I see you."

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


Sometimes in the later hours of the day, just before the students are ushered out of the building for lock-down, the evasive blond manages to sneak into the music department to practice on the piano there. One of the downfalls of college was putting all the money earned from his meager job at the local records shop to funding tuition and books, among other things, leaving him just enough to buy the necessities for his quaint dorm room on campus.

  


It takes a solid five minutes of speaking with an avid Hoseok for him to ease into the room as inconspicuously as possible, glancing at the digital clock on the wall for the time: he had less than half an hour to practice a new song he had learned recently, and one he had personally composed and had written the notes to during a remedial physics class.

  


Maybe not the smartest of decisions, but the blond didn't care, not when music was his sole passion in life; maybe more so than— . . . His thoughts trail off as soon as he adjusts within the wooden chair and flexes his nimble fingers, releasing a content sigh once the pads of his digits finally grace the keyboard. And like that, he slips into the familiar trance of the peaceful melody he creates, attempting to ignore the raucous of laughter and students running throughout the halls.

  


Someone clears their throat from halfway across the room, poised at the door to the spacious room. He doesn't pause, just grins to himself, glancing over his shoulder as he allows muscle memory to guide the movement of his fingers against the checkered keys. "You sure have on helluva way of annoying me when I'm busy," flippantly remarks the blond, though he hides the smug smirk twitching across his mouth: "What is it this time?"

  


An inquisitive noise emanates from the perpetrator, fingers sliding down the door frame as he enters the otherwise vacant room, clicking the door firmly closed behind him. Foot steps approach the grand piano, halting only when he is a step behind the blond, hands going to playfully ruffle his fair locks. He tugs lightly, causing the blond's head to jerk back. "One of these days you'll regret being such an asshole to me, you know that, right?"

  


"And I'm supposed to be scared of you because . . ?"

  


Jimin scoffs at that, eyes promptly rolling, snatching up the discarded messenger bag on the ground. He rummages freely through it, plucking up the notebook that resides against the side between two large books that he's certain the blond has never once opened. He thumbs through the pages, reading the scrawl that covers the pages, able to read certain notes and getting a general melody into his head.

  


Soft hums spew from the raven's throat as he lulls himself into the music, climbing over the wooden stool to accompany the blond. "Jungkook got invited to this party tomorrow night, think you're gonna go?"

  


Yoongi cringes as the raven curiously pokes one of the keys, completely disrupting the beautiful melody he had created, though he doesn't breathe a word about it; he's a little more than content with the warmth radiating from his side and the press of a thigh against his own, so really, the minor flaw in the melody was nothing compared to that.

  


"Is that your way of asking me to go, Park Jimin?" lightheartedly teases the blond, temporarily halting the graceful flow of his fingers. He instead allows them to hover just so over the keyboard, shifting his head to get a better glimpse at the raven, who reaches up to scratch at his cheek, ivory teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "C'mon, don't do that."

  


Just as Yoongi reaches up to swipe the pad of his thumb along the latter's bottom lip, he finds himself freezing in mid-air, much to Jimin's confusion, eyes staring past him at the door located near the corner of the room. What he sees is the sight of a flustered Jungkook peering in through the glass, hands vigorously motioning for the raven to join him, thumb jerking in the direction of the outside corridor.

  


At first he doesn't breathe a word, just sits there, lingering aimlessly, releasing his bottom lip to speak but nothing emanating. He cants his head imploringly at the blond, who watches him with an equally as intense stare, expression quizzical and eyes dark and sending shivers through Jimin's lithe form. He climbs over the side of the wooden stool abruptly, depositing the notebook on the seat where he previously resided, offering a wide and apologetic twitch of the lips.

  


"I guess it's that time. Sorry, Yoongs, but uh— . . . You should come, it'll be fun." Jimin speaks in haste, swiftly jogging off toward an impatient-looking Jungkook, whose lips are in a firm line as he scowls at Yoongi; not that the blond notices, he's concentrating on how hard Jimin is grinning as he glances back at him. "I fucking mean it, grandpa, get off your ass and actually have fun for once."

  


As soon as the door slides open, its hinges releasing a low squeal, Yoongi allows his fingers to ghost over the keys once more. Through his peripheral, he sees Jimin lingering by the door, raven head poking out, murmuring to Jungkook to wait. But the blond doesn't give him the satisfaction of a response or even a parting nod of the head, just immerses in the song he had written earlier, lids fluttering to a serene close.

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


Needless to say, he wasn't happy, wasn't even the slightest inkling of the word, if he were being entirely honest. Because of course, as whipped as he was, he had decided to abandon the first love of his life—the grandeur of the piano—to join the second potential love of his life—who was nowhere to be found in the general vicinity of the crowded dorm floor; apparently the vast majority of the students on that floor had reluctantly volunteered to sacrifice the integrity of the floor to throw what they could have only hoped was the biggest and most notorious party of the year, not that the blond can agree, not when all he can inhale is the burning scent of alcohol and smoke from who-knows-what.

  


There are people occupying space in the hallways as well as the rooms themselves, something that he didn't quite understand, especially since it meant a free-for-all for whatever decent gaming systems may have lurked in plain sight inside of the rooms. But he drifts from one room to another, pausing to have idle chit chat with Taehyung, who drags him to one of the rooms blaring with music.

  


"Figured you needed a drink," shrieks the brunet over the sound of boisterous music, having to cup a hand around his mouth to maximize his volume. He reaches over to the table filled with solo cups, one's drenched in various alcoholic mixtures, handing it over then securing one for himself: "Jimin said he convinced you to come, but I didn't believe it, not until I saw it with my own eyes."

  


Nonplussed by the response, almost as if he had expected it, mainly because it was as predictable as the sun rising in the morning, Yoongi answers with a nod. "Yeah, right. If you think I came just because of him, then you're probably half right." He takes a cautious sip from the rim of the cup, nose crinkling in disdain, lips twisting into a grimace. "Who the fuck made this?"

  


As if realizing that perhaps that may have been vital information to include, Taehyung takes hurried gulps of the concoction, plugging his nose along the way; he still releases a pathetic whimper nonetheless, one that goes unnoticed by those around him. "Maybe that would have explained the taste," he releases a nervous bubble of laughter: "I'm pretty sure I saw Jin mess with the punch bowl, then Hoseok said it wasn't strong enough, _so_ . . ."

  


"So basically we're both gonna die of alcohol poisoning, then?" Yoongi manages an apathetic nod of his head, lips twitching upward into a smirk at the horrified expression Taehyung wears, warily eyeing the cup still in his clutches. Despite the claim, Yoongi still brings the cup to his lips once more, mobilizing and drifting off toward a group of people and dancing wildly to the music deafening his eardrums.

  


Taehyung, who still looks skeptical, decides to keep the cup and trails after the older boy. The blond plasters against the wall, much like he always does whenever he attends an impromptu party, just surveying the scene and occasionally meeting eyes with a somewhat intriguing looking man—or woman, for that matter, he wasn't one to discriminate, not when body parts were subjective. He snorts at that over the rim of his cup, earning a quirk of the brow from the brunet, who elbows him lightly.

  


The brunet speaks about what has gotten his attention and, before Yoongi can process the entire sentence being spoken to him, he finds himself clutching tightly onto the cup. A few drunken people in front of him resides two overly-touchy boys grinding together to the beat, as rhythm-less as a person could be. Jimin tilts his head back, releasing a symphony of giggles, earning an equally as euphoric chuckle from Jungkook.

  


Taehyung is still speaking, this time more amused than anything about the scene, jabbing him in the bicep once more. Pressed against Jungkook's front is Jimin, who grinds forward, fervently pressing his hips into the latter's. The expression Jungkook wears is fiery, sweat plastering to his forehead, mouth parted ever-so-slightly, lips moving but the words inaudible as he moves his hands to Jimin's hips, guiding his movements and pressing harder into the contours of his body.

  


"On a scale of one to ten, how hard do you think Jimin is gonna get fucked tonight?" Taehyung whistles, eyes widening at the audacity of the duo in the middle of the room, seeming to be unaware of the judgmental gazes they collect.

  


Yoongi tilts his head back, taking deep gulps of the searing liquid, not minding the soothing burn. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, tongue swiping along his bottom lip, lapping at the glistening liquid that clings there. "Don't really care, he can fuck who he wants." He releases a humorless laugh, clenching the cup within his fingers. "This isn't really my scene, I'm gonna go. I got shit to do tomorrow."

  


Suddenly looking like a deer caught in headlights, Taehyung is grappling for the elder boy, clinging to him. "Don't be like that, I always feel like I look cool with you around." He pokes his bottom lip out into what he hopes is a pleading pout. "You wouldn't deny this face, would you?"

  


Thin lips part to release a scoff, definitely unimpressed with the feeble attempt at convincing him to stay. He bows his head downcast, tossing the cup into a nearby, overflowing trash can, not concerned with how it rolls off and the drop of liquid remaining drips onto the carpeted floor; not _his_ problem. He shoves his hands deep within his pockets, not even daring to glare in the direction of the careless duo.

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


It was one of those sleepless nights where his roommate, Hoseok, was off doing who-knows-what at nearly three-thirty in the morning with whomever he had recently met on campus. Not that he was complaining, he would rather the bubbly redhead go out and have fun at someone else's expense and in someone else's bed than the one that was only a short distance away from his own.

  


He has the bedside lamp turned on, nothing too bright, just enough to emit his side of the room in a soft and yellow glow that casts a dark shadow to his features. One of his arms is tucked beneath his head, eyes staring blankly ahead at the plain, white ceiling above, eyes narrowed in scrutiny like he believes the answers to his issues lie in the small crack in the center of the drywall.

  


His idle hand has his cell phone balanced at his lower abdomen, the sheets just barely covering the feathery, thin trail of hair leading below. The photo he has chosen was one of Jimin, one he had taken a few months ago when the group of their friends had traveled to the local fair downtown. The raven, who had been a redhead back then, had been exhilarated after exiting one of the rides, grinning ear-to-ear as he threads stubby fingers through his disheveled locks.

  


He locks eyes with Yoongi for half a beat, expression broadening, eyes wide with mirth; and then he presses the button on his cell phone, watching as the initial flash startles the redhead, who hadn't been expecting it, but teased him nonetheless, even murmuring that he should send the photograph to him later on that evening.

  


Almost on cue, he hears the annoying alert that he had received a text message, from none other than Jimin at that. He groans, doesn't even want to look at it, not when he had allowed his mind to race at the thought of Jimin's locks being in disarray from an entirely different ride, one that was exclusive just for him— . . . Another message alert, and this time he thumbs it by accident, or at least that's what he would insist.

  


**Jimbo ;) |**

[ image sent: 3:41 AM ]

if i sed i was drnk rn wat wuld u say

**| Yoongs :p**

[ image received: 3:44 AM ]

Honestly? At this point, not even surprised haha.  
More surprised you messaged me tbqh.

**Jimbo ;) |**

[ image sent: 3:46 AM ]

jk left an hur ago im bored snd me a pic

**| Yoongs :p**

[ image received: 3:47 AM ]

Ouch. Nice to know I'm an afterthought. But yeah,  
no thanks. Kinda look like shit rn. Probs worse  
than shit tbh.

**Jimbo ;) |**

[ image sent: 3:50 AM ]

wht bout now yoongles

**| Yoongs :p**

[ image received: 3:51 AM ]

Okay, I see how it is. Why do you keep calling me  
by that shitty nickname? I'll start calling you Jimbo  
again, you lil shit.

**Jimbo ;) |**

im drenk n thats jus mean u know cen i  
tell u somthn tho like im kinda horny rn  
is that bed

_Jimbo ;) is typing . . ._

bad*

**| Yoongs :p**

Spare me the details, I kinda don't need to think  
about you and your raging boner before I go to  
sleep; last thing I need is your shrimp dick popping  
up in my dreams.

**Jimbo ;) |**

if i sent u n00ds rn wuld u keep them btween  
us like u culnt show any1

_Jimbo ;) is typing . . ._

did u rly just say shrmp dik

**| Yoongs :p**

You shouldn't be ashamed, I'm sure JK loves it.

**Jimbo ;) |**

_Jimbo ;) is typing . . ._

 

**| Yoongs :p**

Please don't type me an essay, I'll literally just go  
to sleep and have nightmares of your shrimp dick.

**Jimbo ;) |**

_Jimbo ;) is typing . . ._

 

**| Yoongs :p**

I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. You may have a  
small dick, but you have a big heart.

** Jimbo ;) | **

im guna let tht slide bczu 2 drnk to cus  
u out rn but i waz thnkn bout u today

_Jimbo ;) is typing . . ._

y u didnt go to the party befor? wnted to  
talk

 

**| Yoongs :p**

[ seen: 4:03 AM ]

**Jimbo ;) |**

_Jimbo ;) is typing . . ._

_Jimbo ;) is typing . . ._

yoongo boongo ?

 

**| Yoongs :p**

[ seen: 4:10 AM ]

**Jimbo ;) |**

im an emotional drnk rmember so pls respond

_Jimbo ;) is typing . . ._

pls

 

**| Yoongs :p**

You do know it's 4AM and I haven't even fapped yet,  
right?

**Jimbo ;) |**

feel fre 2 do it now if u wan but fuck i cant  
think now i tld u i was horne

_Jimbo ;) is typing . . ._

[ image sent: 4:14 AM ]

woops thumb slip

**| Yoongs :p**

[ image received: 4:15 AM ]

I'm starting to doubt you're really drunk. aahaha.  
Like, I really think you're doing this on purpose.  
What kinda game are you playing at, Park Jimin?

**Jimbo ;) |**

[ seen: 4:17 AM ]

 

**| Yoongs :p**

Now you don't wanna respond? Game well-played.

**Jimbo ;) |**

<3

 

**| Yoongs :p**

Go to sleep, dick.

_Yoongs :p is typing . . ._

_Yoongs :p is typing . . ._

_Yoongs :p is typing . . ._

<3

**Jimbo ;) |**

dork

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


The sound of labored breathing fills the relatively small room, and it's absolutely deafening to the raven. He finds himself within the lap of the youth, who has his hands roaming up and down the length of his sides, coaxing him through the post-orgasmic waves that rock him. Dark hair falls in his eyes like a curtain, plump lips parted to release soft sighs, cheeks a rosy pink from exertion.

  


Jungkook is pressed back against the headboard, equally as wrecked, eyes searching the latter's hidden countenance speculatively. He reaches out, brushes the bangs away, sliding a finger beneath his chin, tapping at it until he acquiesces, flickering his gaze to connect with the youth. That same questionable look lingers in the darkness of Jungkook's heavy gaze, brows furrowing tightly upon his forehead, chest still rapidly rising and falling.

  


"Can I ask you something?"

  


Jimin is taken aback by the sudden inquiry, shifting slightly within the youth's lap, hips rocking forward; it makes the latter hiss, far too sensitive to start another round. "After-sex talk?" scoffs the raven, hips swiveling teasingly, making the youth frown prominently, lips forming a thin line. "Go for it."

  


He utters a humorless laugh, one that almost seems condescending, much to the raven's chagrin. "You think about him, don't you?" Nimble fingers trail up and down his spine, counting the ridges that protrude against the skin there.

  


"What are you talking about?" Jimin retorts, averting his gaze to the headboard, hands going to either side of the latter's shoulders for leverage, climbing off his cock and settling more comfortably within his lap. He leans back against the knees Jungkook has drawn up, hands splaying down the expanse of his chest.

  


The little shit has the audacity to snort derisively, shaking his head. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Jimin." he slides his perspired palms against the messy sheets below, hands going back to the latter's thighs. "I see the way he looks at you, and I see how you look at him. Just be honest, okay?" The raven shifts once more, turning his head away from the latter, eyes falling downcast at the dejected tone. "You want him, too, don't you?"

  


Taking a decisive moment to consider the answer, Jimin pauses the roaming of his hands, nail scratching at the dark freckle that rests just above the latter's navel. It sends an involuntary shiver through the raven's form, hands going to swat at the elder, palm folding on top of his. Dark eyes gaze at the hand trapping his own, thinks that maybe the youth is too passive, perhaps not as aggressive as he would have preferred.

  


Jimin wriggles his hand free and reaches for the latter's instead, grappling them by the wrist, pinning them above the youth's head, keeping him plastered against the headboard. He leans forward, brushes his lips feather-light at the latter's cheek, releasing an even exhale through his nose. " _Maybe_ . . ." He ventures lower, licking at the corner of Jungkook's mouth, to which the raven grunts at.

  


The youth, who feels crestfallen at the admittance, allows the lips to capture his own; revels in the feel of his tongue sliding along his bottom lip and lower down the base of his throat, pausing to nip at the protrusion there, but never once marking him. In fact, he never did. His eyes meet the ceiling above, hands sliding down the latter's back once more, musing to himself that he had known as much and had always maintained the benefit of the doubt.

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


During the day, the recreational center on campus was packed, more-so than after-hours, which were frequented by students who generally had way too much time on their hands; or optionally, no social life. Not that the blond can relate to the last inference, not when he had a variety of friends, or mere acquaintances as he preferred to call them. Genuine people were hard to come by, after-all.

  


Yoongi grapples at the end of the navy blue towel slung around his neck, using the tail-end to dab at the sweat accumulating at a dark brow. Sweat trickles down the side of his face, pooling at his collar bones, even traveling down his bare chest. There were girls, who were supposed to be training for athletics, clumped in a group near the treadmills he was located at, just casually blanching at the sight of him; he finds the unabashed attention amusing, however, even nods his head in their direction.

  


It earns a series of sharp gasps and panicked clearing of the throat, to which he ignores, focusing on the light pace he had set on the treadmill. One of his fingers fiddles with the music player resting within the cup holder of the machine, flickering through songs until finding one that matched his current mood, plugging his ears with headphones to drown out the noise around him.

  


As soon as he finds a rhythm, one that manages to match the beat of the song, much to his entertainment, he feels the sensation of someone plucking one of the buds away. He swats at the hand that lingers near his ear, peering through his peripheral at the distraction. "Need something? Or do you just specialize in being an annoying little shit?"

  


Jimin releases a self-deprecating laugh, lips twitching upward into a smug smirk. "Both." He cants his head, dark eyes greedily taking in the sight of a shirtless Yoongi; a rare scene that needed to be appreciated properly. Yoongi fiddles with the controls of the machine until its conveyor belt comes to a sluggish stop; he leans against the back of it, quirks an intrigued brow. "Lemme crash at your dorm tonight? I got locked out and left my keys inside. My roommate left yesterday and won't be back until tomorrow."

  


Dark eyes flicker to the sight of Jimin's bare chest, and pleasantly hums at the sight; who knew that beneath all those loose t-shirts was a set of defined abs? "Hoseok's in tonight," starts the blond, running a hand through his damp and disheveled locks, strands clinging to his forehead. "But if you're cool with my bed, you can have it."

  


The raven sinks his teeth into his lower lip, hands shoving deep into the pockets of his shorts. "I mean, yeah, a bed's a bed. What about you, though? Like, I don't want to displace you and leave you on the floor or something." His tone is conversational, shifting his weight onto one leg, hip jutting out. "I get one side, you get the other?"

  


"As long as you promise to keep your hands to yourself," challenges the blond with a devious twitch of his lips. Jimin manages a flush, spluttering, murmuring on about how he wouldn't be tempted in the slightest; the flush travels to radiate against the expanse of his chest, painting him a deep scarlet. Yoongi retrieves the key from the cup holder, dangling them in front of the latter: "Gimme a minute, I gotta finish this workout and we can walk back together."

  


"That was the general idea."

  


-

  


Needless to say, after showering and getting changed into a fresh pair of sweats and a t-shirt, Yoongi was a little more than exhausted. Jimin had asked about a change of clothes as well, gratefully accepting them as he plucks up a plush towel and scurries off toward the bathroom. The blond peers over at the slumbering redhead across the distance to Hoseok, whose curled into his sheets, completely and utterly unsuspecting of the latest turn of events.

  


The blond scoots closer to the wall pressed against the bed and folds his arms behind his head, legs sprawled out on the sheets. He stares at the general vicinity of the bathroom door, can see the shadow of Jimin moving about beneath the slit at the bottom. As soon as he opens the door, the scent of shampoo and body wash filters to his nostrils, though it smells strangely different as Jimin emerges in a cloud of steam.

  


Dark hair clings to his forehead and nape of the neck as he ushers in, a pair of loose sweats hanging off the sides of his hips. He closes the door behind him, water freely dripping from his hair, to which he ruffles, attempting to shake off the remaining droplets. He flashes a blindingly bright grin at Yoongi, who nods at him appreciatively, watching as he leisurely approaches the bed.

  


Instead of flicking the switch on the lamp off, he allows the light to cast the room in a soft glow, climbing into the bed to join the blond. He crosses his legs on the warm sheets, dark eyes staring curiously at Yoongi, who raises his brows at the contemplative look. "Something on your mind?"

  


Jimin releases a hushed laugh, one that he muffles within a hand, casting a weary glance at the sleeping form of Hoseok. "No, no it's not that." He runs a hand through his hair, slicking it back against his head. "Just thanks, I guess, for letting me stay." He fiddles with the drawstrings of the sweats, coyly glancing up at the blond once more.

  


"Whatever." snorts the blond as he jerks his head in the direction of the lamp. "Turn it off and go to sleep, you dork."

  


The raven hesitates initially, finger twirling along the thin drawstring, releasing it in favor of shifting on the bed, effectively drowning the room in darkness. The sheets continue to rustle as he attempts to get comfortable, sliding beneath the sheets, accompanying Yoongi whose nestled warmly against him. His shoulder bumps into the latter's, which was to be expected, especially with such a tiny bed; it was only meant for one person, similar to the bed back at his own respective room.

  


Jimin shifts onto his side, burying his head against the pillow. "Maybe I should've brought a towel for my hair." he speaks in a hushed whisper, snickering to himself: "You don't mind getting a little wet, do you?"

  


Yoongi shifts this time, turning onto his side to face the latter. His breath mingles with the latter's, the familiar scent of spearmint filling the space between them. "As long as you shut up, no, not really."

  


Obediently, Jimin allows his mouth to clamp shut, eyes struggling to make out the latter's features in the darkness. Unconsciously, the raven scoots closer to the proximity of Yoongi, even more-so until he can feel the comforting warmth radiating from his form. He places an arm beneath the pillow, drags it closer towards him. He moves a knee experimentally, grinning once he bumps into Yoongi's beneath the sheets.

  


"Back to playing games," Yoongi speaks matter-of-factually. He reaches out in the darkness, lightly jabs the raven in the chest; he earns a groan at the slight pain that resonates there. "I know that didn't hurt, stop being so fucking dramatic."

  


"I can't sleep, is it really that hard to believe?" hisses Jimin as he rubs avidly at his chest, attempting to soothe the dull pain throbbing there. He heaves an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling promptly, rolling onto the opposite side and staring blankly ahead at nothing in particular.

  


"Right." Yoongi utters a laugh of his own, stifling a yawn with his fist. He props himself up on an elbow, overlooking the boy beside him. He's tempted, oh-so-tempted to reach out and twirl one of the damp locks around his finger, watching as it coils back into place. But he doesn't, he restrains himself. "Lemme guess: you need someone to cuddle to go to sleep?" incredulously states the blond, hearing only the sound of even breathing in response.

  


"That would help." Jimin breaks the silence, already scooting backward, releasing a pleasant hum when his back smacks against the latter's bare chest. "I mean, fuck, it's not like I'm asking you to—"

  


"Do you ever shut up?" Yoongi grumbles aloud, sliding an arm around the latter's middle, pressing his hips up against Jimin's bottom. "Is this good enough?"

  


The raven tenses up initially, hips thrusting forward as to create some distance, arms going rigid. After a considerate moment, he relaxes and melts back against Yoongi's warm chest, arm loosening and sliding against the fist formed near his abdomen. His back arches, pressing his backside flush against Yoongi's front, wriggling experimentally and releasing a wanton sigh at the feel of him.

  


Yoongi doesn't breathe a word, though he does attempt to will the twitching of his cock away. But the more comfortable Jimin gets, writhing against his crotch and all, the more his cock twitches awake. He releases a shuddering breath, one that tickles the damp hairs at the nape of Jimin's neck, rewarding him with a sharp gasp.

  


Both remain absolutely still and quiet after that, Jimin never once making a peep, though he has words lurking at the tip of his tongue; words that yearn to be spoken but are caged by the pierce of teeth biting down to prevent them from being said. Instead he nuzzles his cheek into the pillow, releasing another silent, hushed sound followed consequently by pressing back more insistently against the prominent bulge he discovers.

  


Minutes tick by and neither have fallen asleep, making the situation an ounce more uncomfortable than it already was; surprisingly, it didn't feel awkward, and how could it be? The tension between them was palpable and Yoongi muses that he had never desired Jimin more than he did in that moment. He thinks absently that the latter yearned for him, too, that it was as blatant as the curve of his ass trapping his cock between them.

  


Another few minutes pass by, and Yoongi's instincts completely take over the logical part of his mind. The tips of his fingers are tingling, desperate to touch, to sate the pulsating heat forming in the pit of his abdomen. It takes all the physical strength he can muster not to buck forward, having to seize his limbs until he feels them go rigid, breath hitching in his throat.

  


Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  


He releases a guttural groan and shifts beneath the sheets, peeling them from his overheated body. He clamors out of bed, blindly stumbling forward in the direction of the bathroom, managing to slide the alabaster door open and hear its hinges squealing in response. He blindly finds the light-switch, flips it on, and immediately slams the door shut behind him. The blond grips at the edge of the counter, eyes staring at his flustered appearance: eyes dark and hooded, cock poking through the front of his gray sweats, chest flushed a deep scarlet.

  


"Fuck."

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


Light from the slits of the blinds filters into the room, bathing it in a golden hue. Lids twitch beneath the rays sifting in directly over his field of vision, groaning groggily, having to shift onto his side. One of his hands slides along the disheveled sheets, unconsciously grappling for what he hopes is skin, but all he feels is the coolness of the fabric.

  


He releases another groan, this one sounding more confused than the last, cracking an eye open to reveal the sight of an otherwise empty bed. He rubs a fist at one of his eyes, cleansing the sleep that clings there, peering toward Hoseok's side of the room: he finds the redhead with his back pressed against the opposing wall, rubbing vigorously at his face, apparently having been woken up not too long ago himself.

  


"You finally up?" Hoseok speaks tentatively, as to not wake the latter if he hadn't fully come to yet. "If you are, I just want you to know you're a dick for slamming that door last night."

  


Yoongi releases an outstretched yawn, grappling for the sheets on the upper-side of the bed. Apparently he had managed to get some semblance of sleep, but from the bottom of the bed versus cuddled up behind a mischievous Jimin, who had obviously planned the whole ordeal; or at least he prefers to think that way, likes to think that Jimin had consciously decided to seduce him. It would only play into one of his fantasies of the little angel being a sex kitten when it came down to tousling in the sheets; his cock seems to be in agreement as it twitches unabashed between his legs.

  


The blond turns onto his stomach, not embarrassed about his current predicament, but not keen on showing off his morning wood either. He props himself up on his elbows, lips quirking into a smirk as he glances over at Hoseok once more. "You got back to sleep, didn't you?"

  


Before he can release the laughter threatening to bubble over in his throat, he finds himself jostled by a perfectly-aimed pillow to the head, knocking him slightly to the side. He blinks, lashes fluttering, coining a scowl to the redhead. But Hoseok looks pleased enough, offering one of his signature grins. "Care to explain why I bumped into Jimin in the bathroom this morning?"

  


"Care to mind your business?" It comes out more abrasive than he had intended, but Hoseok doesn't look deterred in the slightest, just wiggles his brows suggestively.

  


"It became my business when I walked in on him taking a piss." Hoseok murmurs his indignance, nose crinkling his disdain: "I don't care what you do or who you do, for that matter, but I don't want to see you get hurt. That's all I'm saying." Yoongi makes an inquisitive noise, legs dangling off the end of the bed as he stretches. "You know he's hooking up with Jungkook, right?"

  


Pensive silence follows the declaration, one that leaves Yoongi rubbing gingerly at his eye with a forefinger, gaze downcast to the sheets. Whenever he inhales, he can smell the remnants of the raven tangled in his sheets, and he finds it a little too distracting to concentrate on the information he should be processing. But what did it matter anyway? Obviously things weren't going smoothly between the two, especially if he had resolved to following him home.

  


As easy as it was to ambush him at the recreational center, he could have just as effortlessly dialed up Jungkook if he was really that forlorn and anguished over having no place to rest his head. Yoongi chews attentively at the inside of his cheek, shrugging a halfhearted shoulder, connecting eyes with the latter; Hoseok looks disapproving, eyes narrowed into a stern scowl.

  


"I mean it, Yoongi. You should be more careful about who you fool around with."

  


The blond doesn't want the sense of euphoria flowing through his veins to end, so he actively ignores the words. Instead he shimmies up the length of the bed and retrieves his cell phone from the bedside table, discovering a notification from Jimin, one that had been sent nearly half an hour ago. When he opens it, it's to the sight of an image staring back at him:

  


**Jimbo ;) |**

[ image sent: 7:09 AM ]

your bed is really comfy yoongs; hope  
you dont mind this souvenir

**| Yoongs :p**

[ image received: 7:52 AM ]

  


His eyes study the image that had been captured of him fast asleep; his expression was free of concerns and only told of how tranquil he had been. His lips twitch upward into a fond smile, but he doesn't reply, not when he has more pressing matters to attend to. When he glances toward the other half of the room, he discovers Hoseok has drifted off toward the bathroom once more, leaving him alone in the open space.

  


He had a lot of things to think about, but things that could wait till later, especially as his cock continues to throb beneath the hem of his sweatpants; yeah, those thoughts could definitely wait.

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


An entire week passes like that, assignments being turned in on the regular, having to stop to do his laundry twice during the week. Everything seemed to pass in a blur; he had taught numerous classes on behalf of the music teacher, who had insisted that Yoongi "had a way" with the youth. Though he knows it's simply because the elderly woman has had enough of teaching, and had even announced her retirement for later on during the year.

  


One night he stays after a private session he had been scheduled for with a young lady. She had left nearly fifteen minutes ago, but he had yet to abandon the ebony and ivory of the piano keys. The blond nibbles at the blunt nail on his thumb, eyes narrowing as he stares at the sheet music plastered to the plastic stand.

  


He feels the bounce of his thigh jiggling as he contemplates on what his next move would be after leaving the music department; it was a Friday night, the day virtually everyone had plans except him. As he bounces his thigh, he feels the weight of his cell phone in his pocket, and he feels a familiar smirk twitch across his mouth.

  


He releases the thoroughly chewed end of his thumb in favor of retrieving the device, hurriedly dialing the number in mind before he gives the thought up entirely. It rings once, twice, and he ultimately hears a voice just after the third ring. Jimin sounds dumbfounded as he speaks Yoongi's name into the receiver, tone perplexed as he repeats the name once more.

  


Yoongi maneuvers his free hand to pull back the protective covering over the keys, placing his elbow on top of it and nibbling at that thumb now. "So you're fucking Jungkook, I hear." He hears a startled squeak emanate from the other end of the line, followed by a nervous fit of laughter. "You sure he can handle you?"

  


Attention captured, Jimin releases a derisive snort, one that the blond smirks at. "Concerned?"

  


"Just making sure you get what you deserve, that's all." Jimin makes a noise akin to a keen on the other end of the line, interest thoroughly piqued as he waits with bated breath. Yoongi wets hit bottom lip at the noise, desiring to reel a similar sound under different circumstances. "I don't think he can satisfy you, not like I can anyway."

  


Jimin's breathing into the receiver is heavier than before, soft sounds emanating from his mouth; but he doesn't breath a word, just utters an enthralled, breathless laugh. "Is that so?" hums the raven, voice lowering as he whispers: "we'll find out, then."

  


And with that, the call is dropped, leaving nothing but the dial tone in its wake. Instead he receives a text message inquiring about his location, which he swiftly gives, tossing the phone halfheartedly onto the wooden stool. He receives a message back almost instantaneously, one promising that he would be there and declared that the blond " _better be ready_ " for him; as if he had been oblivious to the fact that Yoongi had always been ready—always _would_ be ready when it came to Jimin.

  


Needless to say, Yoongi closed the lid to the glossy grand piano, sliding the palm of his hand along the sleek surface. He occupies himself with taping down paper over the windows, ensuring that no one would be able to witness what would occur inside of the room; not that he had expected any disruptions, not when he had been granted access to the room for a solid two hours, only luckily wrapping up a session in half that time.

  


Soon he hears a subtle knock on the door, followed by the sound of Jimin quizzically calling his name; he immediately stops what he's doing, heading straight for the door, opening it to reveal the raven equipped with a book-bag slung over his shoulders. Yoongi quirk an imploring brow, but allows him entry nonetheless. Jimin strolls in, head downcast, easing the bag off of his shoulder as he nears the wooden stool; he rummages through the bag and retrieves a roll of condoms, to which he dangles, smirking smugly to himself at the astonished look he receives.

  


But Yoongi isn't too concerned about trivialities, not as he places his hands on either side of Jimin's hips, slanting his front against his back. Almost instantaneously, Jimin drops the small tube of lube he had brought along, hearing it clamor back into the bag. He presses back against him, grinding his hips backward into the thick curve of Yoongi's cock.

  


The blond peppers a series of open-mouthed kisses down the side of his neck, nipping earnestly at the unblemished skin there, desiring to mark him with a possessive bruise; he hears no complaints from the raven, who only lolls his head to the side, intent on giving him better access to his throat. Jimin emits a sharp gasp that transitions into a moan when Yoongi sucks avidly at his skin, pausing to flick his tongue over the bruise surfacing.

  


One of Yoongi's hands travels up the length of Jimin's back and finds his hair, tugging on it lightly and snapping his head back to fall against the blond's shoulder. "By the end of the night, you're gonna call me daddy. Understood?"

  


Unable to formulate a proper response, Jimin only whimpers, nodding his head frantically. He feels the hands at the small of his back press him forward, sending him fumbling for the side of the piano, grappling onto it for support. He coins a scowl over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already focused on reaching around his middle, fumbling with the fastenings of his zipper and button; it opens after a second of fiddling and to that, the man is grateful.

  


Jimin shivers involuntary as the denim of his jeans falls to pool around his ankles, followed moments later by the sound of his boxers rustling. Yoongi presses into the contours of Jimin's ass; the only thing separating him from bare flesh being a pair of snugly-fitted boxers. He brings a hand to one of the firm globes, offering it a smack, hearing an audible hitch in Jimin's breathing.

  


"F-fuck . . . " hisses the raven as he bows his head, arching his hips and poking his ass out, preparing for another smack; but he doesn't get one, at least not when he expects it. "Y-yoongi— . . . "

  


The blond makes a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat as he squeezes the abused cheek, kneading it between his hand, the other snaking its way around Jimin's front to tease his hardening cock. Jimin twitches his hips forward in favor of the warmth surrounding his cock, reveling in the way the tips of Yoongi's middle and forefinger ghost along the slit.

  


"Do you let Jungkook touch you like this?" And even though he knows the answer, he just wants to erase those thoughts from the raven's memories; wants to replace them with something better, something more pleasing than an amateur's touch. "Does it ever feel this good?"

  


Yoongi hums at the dampness forming through the material of his boxers, hand going to surround his cock through the dampening fabric. He pumps him the best he can manage through the confines of the boxers, and Jimin seems elated enough, choking out a moan he desperately attempts to stifle. He rocks his hips forward to meet the warmth of his palm, yearning for a tighter grip.

  


"Not like this," Jimin manages to whimper, shaking his head erratically. He wriggles his ass backwards and grinds early against Yoongi's hard cock, and Yoongi shifts in favor, nestling his cock in the crevice between the latter's ass. "Never like this . . . "

  


Jimin splays an arm on the sleek surface on the piano-top, pressing his forehead against it. Instead of teasing him, as much as he wants to, Yoongi slides a hand beneath the band of his boxers and fondles him with the bare skin of his calloused palm. The raven is practically choking now, hips thrusting forward, reveling in how his cock slides within Yoongi's grip. Yoongi strokes him with a slow and even pace, one that leaves him a whining mess, squeaking when the blond hushes him and offers him a firm squeeze around the head.

  


With his free hand, Yoongi works on tugging the fabric down the expanse of his thighs, not even accomplishing the feat halfway before that hands joins his other in tandem. "I'm gonna take good care of you," assures the blond as he nuzzles the back of the latter's neck, pressing a tender kiss at the nape of his neck. "Just be patient for daddy."

  


The raven gulps deeply, but nods his understanding nevertheless, eyes clenching tightly closed. His body seems to vibrate with the sensations running rampant throughout his limbs. It spawns from the base of his cock, that familiar pulsing spreading to every part of his form, resonating in his toes, and he curls those to alleviate the tension there. "I wanna cum so bad, daddy . . . "

  


This one statement is enough to make Yoongi loosen the firm grip he has on Jimin's cock, grappling about for the bag filled with necessities. He reaches for the forgotten tube of lube and pops the cap open, it makes Jimin startle, glancing over his shoulder to peer at the bottle. The blond gives him a smack, one that's deafening as it echoes off the walls; Jimin buries his head against his arm once more, hissing in a mix of pleasure-filled pain at the burning sting.

  


Jimin is panting heavily by this point, ivory teeth finding a permanent home in his bottom lip, refusing to release the plumped surface. Meanwhile Yoongi busies himself within thoroughly coating his fingers in the gel-like substance, eyes trained on the sight of Jimin's pink ring of muscle, the sight sending an electric shrill straight through his cock.

  


He dabs another dollop onto his fingers before placing a hand on the side of Jimin's hip to steady him, fingers soothing against the taut ring of muscle, teasing the wrinkled skin with the pad of his forefinger and middle. The coolness earns a squeal from Jimin, who detests the starkly contrasting temperature, only finding purchase in the warmth of Yoongi's fingers prodding against him.

  


"Please, daddy . . . ?"

  


The blond absentmindedly decides that Jimin would be the definite end of him, an end he would gladly accept, as long as he heard those words spewed in a mantra. Slowly, he sinks the forefinger past the tight ring, coaxing the raven to relax and open for him through soft coos. "Just like that, good boy . . . " hums the blond, he offers him a warm smack against the neglected cheek, hands greedily kneading the globe in means of soothing the crimson skin. "Just a little more."

  


Yoongi presses as far as he can go with the digit, stirring the finger and getting the raven accustomed to the sensation. Deciding that the raven was ready for another, he adds the middle finger, stretching them in means of a scissoring motion. It elicits a keen from the raven, who spreads his legs further apart, as much as he can muster considering the denim clutching around his ankles. The blond places a hand upon his lower back, halting the undulating of his hips, nudging a thigh between his legs in a feeble attempt at widening his stance.

  


"I can't— . . . " The words die on the raven's mouth as he arches his back, clenching tightly around the fingers that curl gingerly inside of him, feeling the resonating gratification spread throughout his form; his toes are curling along with the repeated movement, knees beginning to wobble as he attempts to remain upright. "Daddy, please— . . . I need it, need you . . . "

  


Releasing a mirthful laugh, Yoongi stretches his fingers apart once more, desiring for the raven to be properly prepped before the rendezvous began. He plunges his fingers deeper inside the boy, meeting little resistance as the boy clamps around him instinctively, fingers curling once more. He holds that position for a considerate moment, enjoying the warble of cries emanating from the raven.

  


"Daddy said he was gonna take care of you, didn't he?" Yoongi shushes the boy, reluctantly withdrawing his fingers, instead wrapping them around his cock to offer himself a few loose tugs. "Didn't I?" He guides the head of his cock to the puckered ring, teasing him with the droplets of pre-cum that have gathered at the angry-red tip.

  


"Yeah, yeah." Jimin is a breathless mess, pressing back against the head of his cock, wanting nothing more than to feel the thickness of him sinking deep inside; but he's patient, breathing heavily as he hears the tearing of the foil packet, followed by the faint sound of the condom being rolled onto Yoongi's cock. "Need you now, daddy." It was more of a command than a whim, which Yoongi smirks at, admiring that the raven was vocal about what he desired.

  


Yoongi takes another moment to stroke his hardened cock, sliding the hand slickly up and down his length. He places a firm hand to the raven's shoulder, nails digging deep into his skin, holding him still as the other hand guides the head of his cock past the restrictive ring of muscle. Whines emanate from the raven as he relaxes from the tense stance he had taken, greedily swallowing the whole of Yoongi's cock in one fell swoop of the hips.

  


Buried deep, Yoongi feels the breath he had struggled to maintain hitch in his throat, temporarily rendering him out of oxygen. He keeps the hand on Jimin's shoulder, the other sliding around his middle, holding him flush against the contours of his body. He bends at the waist until he can attach his mouth to the latter's shoulder, leaving lavish, open-mouthed kisses in his wake, willing him to calm in his embrace.

  


"Move, _please_ . . . " Jimin hisses through clenched teeth, body possessing a slight tremble, shoulder muscles flexing in response to the harsh bite he receives. "Dammit, Yoongi, I told you to—Oh, _fuck me_ , yes . . . "

  


Jimin weakly lifts his head from his folded arms to peer over his shoulder at the blond, who wears a staunch expression, making eye contact with the youth. That little fucker smirks at him, back arching, hips pressing back to meet his thrust halfway. Already, Yoongi was feeling that familiar tightening in his abdomen, but he would be damned if he came too soon; not when he had a less than passive Jimin in his arms.

  


Yoongi steels him with a narrow of his lids, lips forming a firm line, hands shifting to press his head back down against the closed lid of the piano. The raven grunts at being manhandled, but doesn't form a retort, just allows the blond to hammer into him from behind. Each thrust is met with one of his own, cock sliding in to the hilt then snapping back to withdraw, only to fill him up in a matter of seconds once more.

  


The sounds emanating from the raven are beyond sinful; something that he could have only fantasized of hearing, things he had only dreamed about in the past, but never had it been quite like this and at this magnitude. It filled the blond with a sense of determination, hand sliding to the back of his neck, pressing him more roughly against the piano in an unyielding hold.

  


Jimin's cheek is pressed flush against the sleek surface of the piano, eyes clenching firmly shut, cock rhythmically bumping into the wood before him. It was painful at first, but with Yoongi plowing into him like he had the essence needed to sustain life, he kept his mouth sealed on the topic. He inhales sharply when Yoongi slows the movement of his hips, surging forward at a tantalizingly slow pace, one that leaves him reeling, pressing him harder into the piano.

  


"Nobody else can fuck you this good, can they?" Yoongi growls huskily, angling his hips this time, still moving at that same unbearably slow pace. He releases the back of Jimin's head in favor of gripping onto either side of his hips, tugging him closer as he plunges his cock deep to the hilt, burying himself there and rocking forward with little jerks of his hips. Jimin feels that familiar wobbling of his knees as he grips at the edge of the piano, one of his hands sliding back, raking his blunt nails down the front of Yoongi's chest: "Words, use words."

  


"Nobody else," croaks a thoroughly wrecked Jimin as he reaches back, sliding a hand down the pale expanse of Yoongi's thigh, encouraging him to continue: "If you don't fuck me right now, daddy, I _swear_ —"

  


Not taking the threat lightly, Yoongi smacks one of his cheeks, the sting resonating at the base of Jimin's cock; it left him with a renewed sense of vigor as he cranes his hips toward the piano, slamming back against the elder's cock, seeming to knock him out of whatever torturous reverie he had found himself overwhelmed by. Yoongi repeats the action, and Jimin's walls clamp down around him snugly, creating insufferable friction as he eases from the confines of his walls to snap his hips brutally forward.

  


Jimin releases high-pitched keens as he struggles to straighten his spine, creating a new angle, his hands splaying flat against the piano-top. He reaches a hand back, grappling at the perspired hairs clinging to the back of Yoongi's head, darting his tongue out to meet the latter's halfway. He utters a breathless laugh at the blond's eagerness, lapping at his tongue, invading his mouth with a fierceness that leaves Yoongi grabbing handfuls of Jimin's ass.

  


He fondly squeezes the globes, spreading the two mounds further apart, nestling his cock deeper past the taut ring of muscle; he knees one of Jimin's legs forward, has him leaning his weight onto the wooden stool situated beneath him. This new angle has the duo panting heavily into the other's mouth, teeth and tongues clashing and colliding, adding to the boisterous and piercing strike of bare flesh against bare flesh; it created a fervent and filthy cacophony, one that only increased the adrenaline scorching through Yoongi's veins.

  


Jimin withdraws from the kiss, a trial of saliva connecting the two, head falling back against Yoongi's shoulder as he fights through the orgasm threatening to overcome him. He drops a hand to loosely stroke his cock, tugging the length in a discordant rhythm to the sporadic, earnest rock of Yoongi's hips, mouth parted ever-so-slightly, bruised and crimson, releasing the remaining breath he has left in his lungs.

  


"Daddy, I'm gonna—I can't—Please, daddy . . . " Jimin pleads in a broken mantra, labored breathing tickling the fine hairs near the elder's ear, sending a shiver through his form: "Just—just a little more, shit, you better not stop, _please_ . . . "

  


Yoongi swats the dainty hand surrounding Jimin's cock away, replacing it with his own. Nimble fingers wrap around his cock, twisting on the upstroke, pumping at a frantic and feverish speed. He can feel the clench of Jimin's abdomen against his forearm, knows that he was nearing closer to that peak. Yoongi feels him clenching around his, cock, too; and he revels in the tight heat that encases him, caging him in place and holding him taut as the raven releases with a choked sob.

  


Tremors wrack the raven's lithe form as he releases into the fist Yoongi's hand makes, calloused palm enclosing around the head of his cock, squeezing him and milking him for all that he had. He comes in spurts of white, strings shooting forward to strike the piano, coating Yoongi's fingers and dripping onto the floor below.

  


"Just like that, come for daddy."

  


Jimin brings a hand to his mouth, ivory teeth digging into the heel of his palm; it was a feeble attempt at concealing the blissed out noises that erupt from his throat, though Yoongi would rather hear them than go without. Aforementioned continues to thrust forward with abandon now, feeling that pressure building in his balls, feeling them tighten as he inches closer to his own gratifying release.

  


The raven cants his head once more, opening his mouth for a kiss, swallowing down any sounds that emanate from deep within the blond's throat. Yoongi releases into the latex in intervals, hips stilling and going rigid, cock twitching as it buries deep within the blond for purchase. The blond releases Jimin's cock in favor of winding an arm around him, holding him close, preventing him from escaping even if he had wanted to.

  


Jimin helps him through it, though. He presses back against him, coaxing every drop that Yoongi had left, even if he had been a little forlorn that he couldn't feel that pleasant, tell-tale drip of cum leaking from deep within him. He flicks his tongue at the corner of Yoongi's mouth, then captures his lower lip between his teeth, tugging at it until the blond surges forward to thoroughly assault his mouth with a litany of vicious kisses.

  


Once the initial high is over, and Yoongi feels oversensitive, he withdraws reluctantly from the kiss. Jimin has returned to leaning over the piano-top, chest rapidly rising and falling, folding his arms and burying his head in the burrow it makes. The blond occupies himself with hesitantly pulling out, removing the condom, tying it off, and tugging his jeans back into place with one hand. The denim hem hangs loosely around his hips as he crosses the short distance to discard of the used condom, knowing damned well he would have to deal with it in other means later on.

  


He returns to Jimin, who seems tranquil by the piano, thighs still trembling. Yoongi slides a hand down his back, smirking at how the ridges of his spine feel against the palm of his hand. "You good?" His hand only halts its descent at the small of his back, fingers massaging soothing circles there.

  


Jimin nods weakly, shoulders quaking. "Yeah, sorry, just— . . . I haven't cum like that in a whi—Why am I telling you this?" He releases a bashful laugh, and his shoulders are painted in a bright flush. He lifts his face from the burrow of his arms, taking a glimpse at Yoongi, finding the blond smirking at him. "Don't look so proud of yourself."

  


Yoongi grabs him by the bicep and tows him into another fervent kiss, tongue gliding across the roof of his mouth. He cants his head slightly, gaining better access to his sinful mouth, tasting himself on the latter's tongue. "You called me daddy, 'member that?" He brings a hand up, traces the pads of his fingers in small circles on Jimin's cheek.

  


Jimin manages another flush, this one deeper in color, cheeks positively flaring now as he bends at the knees to collect his boxers and jeans around his waist. He grasps the front of Yoongi's shirt, pulling him into another lip-bruising kiss. "At least I don't have to clean up all that cum," breathes the raven, tongue flicking at Yoongi's upper lip, kissing him lazily.

  


The blond wears a whimsical grin as he pushes the latter lightly on the chest, knowing that if he doesn't shove him away, the nightly staff responsible for locking up would make an unsightly appearance. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It's your cum, keep that in mind." He offers a devious twitch of his lips, taking a step closer to properly fasten the zipper and button of the younger's jeans.

  


"Can't keep your hands off me?" Jimin muses aloud, head canting playfully, brows rising and falling in his amusement. Ironically, the boy is dragging a hand up the muscle of Yoongi's bicep, squeezing the area appreciatively.

  


"Speak for yourself." Yoongi snickers, swatting at the hand. He wipes the excess release from his fingers onto the side of his jeans, not particularly caring about the stain it creates. "Got anything in here to clean up?" He rummages through the bag, finding a few crumpled napkins tucked against the side.

  


Jimin holds a hand out and crinkles his nose at the sight of the milky white substance contrasting against the dark surface of the piano. "It's oddly poetic." hums the raven as he hesitantly wipes at the area, dabbing at it tentatively.

  


And thinking about it, Yoongi decides that maybe it is. Not about that particular subject, however, but about another thought, one that he can't will away as he saunters off toward one of the cabinets to retrieve proper cleaning products. He glances over his shoulder at the raven, who diligently scrubs at the stained piano, and placing a napkin on the floor to clean with the heel of his sneaker.

  


He had made love—yes, he was choosing to call it that—on top of a piano: the first love of his life had been debauched by the second love of his life. Granted, the love-making session had turned primal, leaving him with crescents beneath the shirt he adorns and noticeable marks covering the expanse of Jimin's body. He grins to himself because, yeah, he had everything he had ever wanted.

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


Days had passed and the two had very minimal contact in those few days, which had honestly left the blond baffled, especially after that mind-blowing orgasm he had brought the latter to. But he wouldn't push it, figured it wasn't necessary and that the raven would come to him whenever he was ready. He was sitting at one of the picnic tables outside, casually sipping from the latte he had purchased from the college cafe.

  


Taehyung was sitting across from him, looking rather dejected all things considered. "Jungkook has been texting me lately," trails off the brunet, scratching at the back of his head. "He wants to start hanging out, but I just, like. We've only been texting for a few weeks now, so really, it's no issue, but—"

  


Instead of finishing the original thought process, Taehyung is clamping a hand over his mouth, bespectacled gaze following the movements of someone coming up behind the blond. He nods his head in the direction of Jimin, who has his hands fiddling in front of him, grinning kindly to the brunet who hurriedly busies himself with retrieving a notebook from his bag.

  


Yoongi glances over his shoulder, finding the raven's grin broadening upon making eye contact. Jimin slides a hand through the blond's hair, nails scraping against his scalp, descending lower until he can tug at the hood of his jacket. "I need you for a minute," his dark gaze flickers to Taehyung, who keeps his gaze focused on the notes he had taken.

  


The blond allows himself to be tugged out of the seat and a short distance away from the group of tables. Jimin has that dazzling look in his eyes, one that he always had, especially lately when he manages to find Yoongi's eyes in a crowd. Upon halting his movements, Jimin is sliding his hands up the expanse of the elder's clothed chest, palms cupping either side of his face. He wears that same blindingly bright smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, leaning forward to press an unabashed kiss to his lips.

  


Yoongi allows the action, allowing his eyes to flutter to a close, reveling in the sensation he had cherished over the past few days; it still felt as electric as it had the first time, burning his mouth in the most pleasant of ways. Before he can work those lips open and devour what was his, Jimin is pulling back, swiping his bottom lip with a thumb.

  


"You know that one movie you mentioned a month ago?" Yoongi nods, affirmative. "Well it came out last night, and I was wondering if you wanted to go see it with me? I could buy you dinner or something, too, whatever you want." Jimin's eyes go wide and hopeful, brightening in anticipation as he awaits an answer.

  


Just before he can exclaim that of course, the answer was obvious, someone comes up behind him. "Can I talk to Yoongi?" timidly questions the voice, Jungkook offering a warm smile as he looks from Jimin to Yoongi.

  


Jimin look skeptical about the idea, but nods anyway, arms crossing over his chest as he watches the duo stroll a few feet away. The blond fights the peeved expression from plastering across his countenance and instead steels his features into one of indifference. Jungkook has his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides when the two finally pause, the youth turning on the heel of his sneaker, staring at the blond pointedly.

  


"You know Jimin isn't really interested, right?"

  


Lids flutter incredulously in response, as if he couldn't believe the words flowing from the youth's mouth. His lips form a thin line, and he finds himself folding his arms over his chest. He peers at the youth down his nose, brows furrowed tightly together on his forehead, eyeing the latter apprehensively. "You think so?"

  


Jungkook shrugs a halfhearted shoulder, hands still fisted at his sides. "I mean, yeah. In fact: I know he doesn't want you."

  


Yoongi pretends to look as bewildered by the information as he can muster, eyes widening in disbelief, mouth parting ever-so-slightly to release a sharp gasp. He straightens his spine, lips twitching with the hints of a smug smirk. "You know what, that's hilarious." He releases a snort, and Jungkook utters an inquisitive noise: "Last time I checked, he calls me daddy."

  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weirdly enough, i've never written an epilogue. so i just did a few glimpses of what it was like after the confrontation. 
> 
> enjoy xx

  


  
  


Time seems to move in the essence of slow motion, like the world around the duo was moving at an impossible and sluggish speed. One blink, and the blond is still a smugly smirking asshole, one that felt a sense of amusement at the situation. In the next blink, he hears the sound of a fist colliding with his jaw, can feel it register as a punch once the sting of pain pulses through the curve of his face.

 

Almost instantaneously, like the normal pace of the world had returned, Yoongi is recovering and balling a hand into a fist. All it takes is one, powerful swing to leave Jungkook stumbling backward, hands gingerly cupping his nose, droplets of blood dribbling down to taint his lips with its dark crimson. He holds up a hand as the blond rolls the sleeves of his dark shirt, not in the mood to fight, but willing if it were absolutely necessary.

 

Jimin, whose only a few feet away, punches him in the bicep but tugs him away from the scene nonetheless. He peers over his shoulder at the brunet, who is boisterously hissing at the pain wracking him and cursing the blond, having been consoled by a bewildered Taehyung, who stares at the two retreating figures, eyes widened and mouth agape. Enough of that, thinks the raven, as he ushers the blond to a more quiet place on campus.

 

One bench resides near a sidewalk and Jimin guides him there, sets him down, glaring at him in disapproval of his actions. "What a talk," sardonically snorts the raven, snatching the blond's hand, gaze scanning the sight of his knuckles: "are you fucking kidding me right now, Yoongs?"

 

The blond doesn't share the stern look, however, can only offer a bark of laughter. He gazes at his own knuckles, noting the bony and bloodied ridges there, doesn't even acknowledge the pain. He flicks his tongue along his bottom lip, eyes flashing to the latter, steeling him with a stare. "I'm not fucking kidding you right now." firmly states the blond with a devious smirk twitching upon his mouth.

 

"Honestly, can you not right now?" But Jimin finds himself grinning despite himself. "It's not funny, you dick." But he doesn't complain when the blond is surging forward, pressing a feverish kiss to his mouth; one that's bruising and possessive and all-consuming.

 

It quite literally takes his breath away, in the way that only Yoongi was capable of doing. His lids flutter to a close, uttering a pathetic whimper, fingers clasping at the front of the latter's shirt. He pulls him closer, if it were even physically possible, can feel the warmth of his chest through the material Yoongi adorns and finds himself temporarily dismissing the situation altogether.

 

How could he think of anything else as Yoongi slides a hand up the expanse of his thigh, squeezing a few inches away from where his cock is twitching to life, and fuck—the duo were in the middle of campus putting on a lascivious display of affection that would make even the crudest of crude blush. He parts his lips, welcoming the tongue that swarms in to greet his own, doesn't even fight for dominance this time as he allows Yoongi to consume him whole.

 

And consume he does as he shifts on the small bench, gliding the back of his bloodied knuckles along the smooth skin of Jimin's cheek; it leaves a russet trail behind, but the raven isn't too concerned with proper hygiene at the moment. He flicks his tongue forward then withdraws, suckling at the blond's bottom lip, tugging it between ivory teeth.

 

Yoongi reverts from the kiss, but Jimin is following him, desperate to keep the kiss intact but to no avail. The blond brings a thumb up, glides the pad along the latter's saliva-coated bottom lip, dark eyes searing as he makes and maintains steady eye contact. "You still mad?" he breathes, voice lowering an octave, leaning forward to ghost his lips against the latter's but restraining from applying pressure: "If you are, lemme know. We can fix this right now."

 

The raven applies the slightest of pressure, assuring him there was nothing to worry about. He presses another, and another after that: he works his mouth open once more, gaining access to the hot cavern. Jimin places one final, fleeting kiss to his mouth before sliding a hand over the hardening bulge in the latter's jeans, blunt nails scratching over the denim. "Trying to fuck the anger out of me?" counters the raven, quirking an intrigued brow.

 

All he receives is a smug smirk in response, the blond nodding once. And really, that's all it takes for the raven to clamor off of the bench, tugging at the front of Yoongi's shirt. Nothing more had to be said as Jimin slides a hand down his clothed chest, boldly squeezing him through the denim, tip of his tongue tracing salaciously along his bottom lip. He continues to tug, and Yoongi doesn't complain once, not when he has the view of Jimin's ass to keep him distracted.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

There were many things that the blond was fond of in the world. Very simple things, at that. Like how the ebony and ivory of the piano keys felt beneath the pads of his fingers as the digits glided over each piece in succession. One thing that he reveled in recently was the sight of Jimin; not even naked or even on top of him, for that matter, but just him in general. Those two things were enough to leave him addled for the duration of the day, and he thinks absently, that he couldn't prosper without both in his life.

 

Tonight he had managed to gain access to the music department once more, not that it was a difficult feat to accomplish or anything. But lately the freshmen had been keen on acquiring the room for base level desires: like the tale of a young freshman who had serenaded an equally as young lady a few nights ago to the sound of Yiruma. It had left Yoongi rolling his eyes once he had heard about it, never once having considered such a shameless display of adoration.

 

But then again, what he was doing now was similar to that, though he prefers not to think that way. In his lap rests Jimin, who is wriggling back against his cock, humming to himself. His stubby fingers are toying with the keys as he struggles to recall what the blond had just instructed. For the second time, he voices his annoyance with the song he had learned nearly a week ago:

 

"Yoongs, I shit you not. My fingers won't cooperate."

 

Expecting the answer, the blond offers another amused snort, this time placing his hands over the raven's. "Maybe if you stopped bouncing on my dick, you would figure out how to play the song." He guides the hands to where they need to be, pressing down the fingers needed to produce the sound. "Like this, pay attention."

 

Jimin had never heard such a difficult sentence spoken in the entirety of his existence. Beneath him, Yoongi is shifting, pressing into the curve of his ass; and right now, he isn't certain if it was intentional or not. But he knows that it wasn't, not when the blond is concentrating on recreating the beautiful song he had played not too long ago. So Jimin pays attention, eyes following the movement of his fingers, committing the keys to memory and allowing determination to fill his veins.

 

Even after the song is completed, Yoongi still keeps his hands on him. Instead of hovering over his fingers, he guides them to encircle the blond's tiny wrist, offering them a warm squeeze, then continuing their ascent up the length of his forearms. He rubs his hands up and down the coolness of Jimin's arms, effectively warming him up, getting him to relax beneath the ministrations.

 

Thin lips press against the blond's ear, soft breath tickling the thin hairs that reside there, sending an involuntary shiver through the youth. He leans back more lax against Yoongi's chest, enjoying the quiet of the moment. "You ready?" breathes the blond, nipping at Jimin's earlobe, tugging it between his teeth. "Show daddy what you can do."

 

With a renewed sense of tenacity, Jimin straightens his spine once more, readying his fingers over the right keys. The hands that go to his thighs is distracting, especially as they travel up and down, offering encouraging squeezes here and there. But he wouldn't mess this up, not when he so desperately desired to impress the prodigy resting warmly behind him. Yoongi is adjusting beneath him once more, pressing more insistently against the curve of his ass, and the raven can't resist quelling him with a swivel of the hips.

 

Behind him, Yoongi's breath is hitching in his throat, hands going to steady him at the waist. Jimin smirks to himself at that, pads of his fingers finally gracing the checkered keys. Lids flutter to a content close as he ghosts over each key with a feather-light touch, one that's barely there, but enough to earn a serene keen of the notes in response.

 

He leans into each press of the keys, finding himself getting immersed into the melody he creates, can hear the rewarding hums from Yoongi as he holds him close about the waist. He can practically hear the rumble of the blond's chest against his back, can feel the gentle press of his fingers digging into his protruding hip bones, can even feel each satisfied sigh tickling the feathery hairs at the nape of his neck.

 

Once the song ultimately comes to a close, Yoongi is leaning forward to press a tender kiss to the back of his neck, nuzzling his nose into fragrant, blond locks. "Fuck, you have no idea how proud I am of you."

 

Jimin can feel the half-hard prod of the latter's cock swelling beneath him, offers a snort. "Yeah, I think I can feel it." Yoongi allows his hands to drift downward once more, fiddling with the zipper of the raven's jeans, popping the button and tugging at the zipper. "We don't need a repeat of the first time," sharply gasps Jimin as he feels fingers teasing him over the material of his boxers, hips pressing more insistently against Yoongi's cock.

 

"What can I say?" Yoongi hums, offering the youth an avid squeeze. "You tellin' me you don't want daddy to make you cum, is that it?" He slides a hand beneath the waistband of his boxers then, sliding a hand up the length of his cock.

 

Jimin squeaks and places a palm on either side of the elder's thighs for leverage, nails curling inward to form crescents through the material. "Take me back to your dorm," reasons the raven, legs spreading to better accommodate the hand down his jeans: "Fuck, daddy, I _mean_ it."

 

Yoongi leans forward, nibbles at the lobe of his ear once more, then tucks him back within his jeans; takes the time to properly fasten him up and everything. Jimin rises reluctantly from his seat, and the elder is right behind him, keeping his front pressed to Jimin's back, fingers looping through the holes in his jeans. "Let's go."

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

It was probably wiser to not ask how the brunet had managed to find himself in this situation. He was pressed into the quaint supply closet in the Psychology room, the same room that was meant to be empty for the remainder of the day since the designated professor had decided to take the rest of the day off. Yet there he was with someone else's boner pressed into his own, chests pressed flush, and lips moving to silence the hiss that threatens to leave his mouth at each earnest twitch of the hips.

 

Outside of the closet is who-knows-who, currently chattering in low murmurs about the upcoming Psychology test in a few days. It had been twice already that whomever it was had heard the audible squeaks emanating from the supply closet, but had luckily never thought to open the doors to peer inside.

 

The simple thought leaves the spectacles-clad brunet accidentally biting down on Jungkook's bottom lip, not that he seems to mind, even moans lowly into the older's mouth at the sensation. He hungrily devours Taehyung's mouth with unabashed enthusiasm, the same enthused way that the brunet swallows the sounds he makes.

 

Somehow Jungkook manages to fumble against the shelves and doors, sneaking a hand between them to palm at the latter's hardened cock, leaving him leaning back against the wall of the closet, head thudding noisily back. "I hate you with a burning passion, Jeon Jungkook." Taehyung hisses while ivory teeth nibble, ravenous, against the base of his throat.

 

"I don't believe it," Jungkook breathes incredulously, stroking him through the material of his tight jeans, the same jeans that constrict uncomfortably snug around his neglected cock. "You don't mean it, do you, Tae?" He bites a possessive mark at his collar bone, sucking earnestly.

 

Taehyung can move just enough to press a hand to the side of the latter's head on the wall, using it for purchase, nails digging into the wood. "I wish I did," croaks the brunet, attempting in vain to widen his stance, hips ardently twitching in favor of the hand that has him cupped. "Right now, I—Kook, _fuck_ —I hate you c-considerably less . . . "

 

Jungkook hums at the base of his throat, tongue flicking at the protrusion of his adam's apple wantonly, traveling back up the expanse of his throat to hover over his lips. His nose bumps into the latter's, and the duo emit a giggle each, pausing the rush of the ministrations to revel in the sound of the other's breathing in the limited space. Taehyung tilts his head ever-so-slightly, pressing a warm, tender kiss to the latter's mouth, allowing their breath to mingle afterward.

 

Without warning, Jungkook squeezes him once more, this time earning a sharp gasp. One that the brunet really, really wishes he could suck back in, especially when he hears footsteps approaching the supply closet. Jungkook presses his forehead against the latter's, breathing evenly, hoping to whatever higher power will listen that whomever resided on the other side would simply disappear. On the other hand, the brunet is clenching his eyes tightly shut, and Taehyung questions why he had thought that a simple study session would have been just that.

 

Soon the dark behind Taehyung's lids brightens and he reluctantly cracks an eye open behind one of his lenses, discovers the sight of a bewildered Namjoon and Jin on the other side of the door. "Oh, _oh no_. This is the worst day of my life . . . " groans the brunet, thudding his head back against the wall.

 

The raven, who is crimson in the face, reaches for the handle once more in a feeble attempt to close it and hide his shame. But it's to no avail, Jin holds it open. He clicks his tongue in a scolding manner then jerks a thumb in the general vicinity of the door: "Seriously, that's gross." murmurs the elder boy, nose crinkling in disdain. "Out, get out." Namjoon, who is awkwardly scratching his cheek, watches the exchange with a frown.

 

Taehyung is the first to abandon the tiny space in favor of stretching his cramped limbs, almost grateful for the freedom, minus the fact that he has an awkward boner on display; he had been hoping that the exposure to the two outsiders would have willed it away, but no, it's still there nestled between his legs. The raven seems to take notice and strolls forward, taking the brunet's hand in his, guiding him safely out of the room and into the quiet hallway.

 

Once outside and away from prying eyes, Jungkook tugs the elder into an embrace, holding him close: "Sorry, I—I didn't think that would happen, Tae." He pauses, withdraws to place a chaste kiss to his cheek. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

 

Despite the peculiar turn of events, Taehyung finds that the only solace he needs is in the form of the warm arms that encase him as if he'll fly away at a moment's notice. He wraps his arms tighter around the muscular boy, holding him close into the contours of his body, smiling at how he seems to meld right into him. The brunet acknowledges that ache between his legs once more, presses more persistent into the latter.

 

"I know the art room's free," casually suggests the brunet, whose eyes are clenched shut; he was generally the more passive of the two, but just couldn't resist, not when it's been weeks since he had participated in a good jerk-off session: "if you wanna finish . . . "

 

Almost immediately Jungkook is withdrawing from the embrace, placing a sweet kiss to the latter's mouth, grinning broadly. "If it means anything to you, I'd rather have you in a bed." His cheeks flush a dark crimson and he scratches at the back of his head, lips quirking into a small grin. "You deserve the best, y'know?"

 

Feeling that peculiar warmth spread through his limbs, Taehyung takes a step forward, pressing a promising kiss to the latter's mouth. The youth parts his lip under the ministrations, allowing his tongue to freely explore, pressing back teasingly and dissolving into a breathless chuckle when Taehyung practically growls at him.

 

From the door of the Psychology room, Jin pokes his head out, eyes rolling once more. "Oh, c'mon, you two. The dorms are literally five minutes away. Shoo, go, bye." And like that, the two are flushing darkly once more, scurrying to the back door of the corridor. Namjoon has his hands resting on Jin's waist, offering a broad and dimpled grin. "Kids, right?" Namjoon offers a snort in response, only serving to earn himself an affectionate smile from the older boy. "Enough stimulating your brain, let's stimulate you."

  


 

-

 

 

**Jimbo <3**

_[ image sent: 3:34PM ]_

i dont understand why i still have to ask  
you to come over at this point like

isnt it implied that after class you come   
over

????

**Yoongs <3**

_[ image received: 3:35PM ]_

Probably one: because you didn't ask and two:  
because I think I'm out of cum to give right now.

**Jimbo <3**

yeahhh sorry

i didnt mean to milk you dry or anything,  
im just kinda addicted to you now

do you forgive me?

**Yoongs <3 **

_[ image sent: 3:37PM ]_

I'll forgive you after I spank you but for right now,  
I'm kinda in an uber heading to get some take-out.

Any requests ??

**Jimbo <3 **

_[ image received: 3:38PM ]_

i hitn kk i jus came

**Yoongs <3 **

So no noodles? More for me.

**Jimbo <3**

well yeah as my boyfriend or whatever its  
kinda your responsibility to feed me other  
than dick for a change

so yes pls

**Yoongs <3**

That's cute, Jimbo. If only you weren't  
such a cock-monster.

**Jimbo <3**

okay fine whatver bye

thats mean

even if its true

**Yoongs <3**

Gonna tell me what you want before I  
decide to buy two servings of noodles  
and then eat both myself?

**Jimbo <3**

youre so demanding um okay

what about jajangmyeon ??

and bring me a coke pl0x

ya boys thirsty

**Yoongs <3**

When are you not? But alright, gotcha.  
Gimme like, 20? And I'll be there?

See you then, baby boy.

**Jimbo <3**

i miss you btw

i just want you to know that

i think about you a lot yknow

**Yoongs <3**

I know, hahaha.

**Jimbo <3**

oh wow

so you dont miss me

do i need to drown myself in beer

**Yoongs <3**

I miss you, too, baby. And no, if you drink  
you'll get whiskey dick and we don't want  
that, do we? Your raging libido would come  
to life and murder me if I don't fuck you.

**Jimbo <3 **

and people think im the whipped one lol

 **Yoongs <3** 

Love you, too, Jimbo.

**Jimbo <3**

yeah yeah whatever

i just want my food

**Yoongs <3**

That's it?

**Jimbo <3**

and you but thats obvious

so shut up

_Jimbo <3 is typing . . . _

hurry up i miss you 

_Jimbo <3 is typing . . ._

<3

**Yoongs <3**

<3

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Nearly a month passes like that, and everything seemed to fall into place. In bed beside him is a peacefully slumbering Jimin, who is completely bare, save for the sheets that rest dangerously low around his waist. The blond is propped up on an elbow, fingers absentmindedly carding through his dark locks, noting the way the youth responds unconsciously to the touches; his lips would twitch upward or he would release a breathy sigh.

 

Yoongi decides that, yeah, angels _did_ exist. And he didn't need logic to decipher that he had the pleasure of falling asleep next to one every night. He had vowed from the first time to never take it for granted, especially when an angel such as Jimin could just as easily find an equally as perfect partner. Aforementioned utters another soft noise, this time slinging an arm loosely around Yoongi's waist, intent on keeping him anchored there beside him.

 

Not that the little raven had anything to worry about, not when the blond had waited ages for a moment like this. His fingers trail down the side of Jimin's face, thumb brushing along his plump bottom lip. This time the raven rouses, presses a kiss to the pad of his thumb, lids fluttering groggily open to meet his intense gaze.

 

Jimin groans lowly, bringing up a fist to rub at his eyes. "You would be watching me sleep, you creep." But the words hold no malice, no, and instead the raven wears a fond smile. "Like what you see?"

 

The blond smooths a hand down the latter's bicep then glides appreciatively over his abdomen. He purses his lips thoughtfully, head canting, lips twitching into a reserved smile. "I always like what I see," admits the blond, cheeks flaring, a rare sight to the raven. "Just thinking, that's all."

 

The sheets rustle as Jimin tugs them more securely around his form, propping himself up on an elbow to mirror the blond. He offers a snicker at the expression Yoongi wears; one where his brows are furrowed, like he's concentrating on learning a piano piece, eyes filled with a similar, burning passion. It leaves Jimin releasing a shuddering breath, gulping deeply. He reaches out, fingers grazing gingerly over the fresh bruise that graces Yoongi's collar bone, watching as he winces at the lingering soreness there.

 

"What are you thinking about this time?" ponders Jimin aloud, eyes crinkling at the corners, eyes narrowing imploringly. "C'mon, I can't read your mind."

 

Initially Yoongi doesn't breathe a word, he just allows the silence to drift; lets the fingers roaming his chest continue, revels in the adoring gaze aimed on him. He heeds the movement of the hand, encases it with his own, lips twitching upward the slightest amount. "I keep thinking that I want to stay like this for as long as I can," discloses the blond, wetting his bottom lip, releasing a humorless laugh. "That's dumb, isn't it?"

 

Jimin shakes his head vigorously in response, denying the thought. "No, that's not— . . . You mean it?" he looks apprehensive, like he isn't certain if he should believe the claim or not.

 

"Yeah, I do." Yoongi is firm in his response, eyes searching the latter's. "If you wanna just fuck, that's cool with me, but just know that it's more than that— . . . " He pauses, wets his bottom lip. "It's _always_ been more than that to me."

 

At first the raven withdraws and takes his hand back from the latter, clamoring to sit up in bed. He gazes down at the blond, brows raised, mouth gaping slightly as he processes the information. He shifts and the mattress groans in response, this time crawling into Yoongi's lap, wriggling comfortably against him. He smooths his hands along the expanse of his abdomen, dark eyes following the movements of his fingers, nails slanting over the fading crescents that still linger in his skin.

 

Yoongi's abdomen expands and contracts beneath the pressure of the latter's fingers, watching him intently, yearning for an answer to his feelings. It's then that Jimin shifts his gaze, eyes locking on the latter, one of the most blinding smiles appearing on his mouth. "I'm here, and I'm yours." Jimin breathes, finding the latter's hands and threading their fingers: "and I'm not going anywhere."

 

The blond concludes as he presses Jimin back down to the mattress, leaving open-mouth kisses on every expanse of skin he comes across, that angels were synonymous with happiness. And as he feels legs encase his waist and nails clawing up the expanse of his back, he decides that angels truly did exist and that he would have the pleasure of making love to one every night. As he releases into Jimin, moans muffled by the side of his neck, he knows that he would give up _everything_ for this boy, as long as he could continue to be touched by an angel—physically and emotionally.

  
  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, there. here's your epilogue. <3 lmao
> 
> lemme know if you liked it, yeah? xx

**Author's Note:**

> i ended abruptly, i know. guess what happened after that confrontation? lmao
> 
> lemme know what you guys thought? <3


End file.
